


blue sky

by justalittlegreen



Series: Sunshine and Filth [17]
Category: MASH (1970), MASH (TV)
Genre: FRIENNNNNNNNNNDS, Fluff with Feels, Unexpected friendships, friends - Freeform, margaret and BJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-23 22:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16627862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittlegreen/pseuds/justalittlegreen
Summary: It's odd, Margaret thinks - she always thinks of BJ as being loud, his quips harmonizing with Hawkeye's outsize presence in every room. Yet on this six-hour shift, the two have hardly spoken.





	blue sky

All the locals know how to find Post-Op. It's gotten around that the side door around the back of the hospital leads to the place where things are calmer, and the doctors have more time, more patience, and less frenzy. It's a place where people are willing to put their tasks aside for a second and help.

BJ and Margaret are in Post-Op on the most glorious afternoon that's hit the 4077 since the official start of spring. They keep the door propped open for breezes, and pretend not to be staring out the window. Things are light today, in terms of workload - a handful of recovering minor wounds, a concussion, a guy who lost a finger. There's a card game happening for those who are up enough to be sitting.

It's odd, Margaret thinks - she always thinks of BJ as being loud, his quips harmonizing with Hawkeye's outsize presence in every room. Yet on this six-hour shift, the two have hardly spoken. She sees him sitting with the patients, taking a long time with each of them. Hawkeye may be the star surgeon of the outfit, and the Colonel the best general physician - but BJ has them both beat at bedside manner. He never speaks loudly enough that she can hear him across the room, but she gets chuckles and snippets of low conversation through the afternoon. The patients are more relaxed with him than anyone else. She's even seen him sit and shush a soldier to sleep. Must be the father in him.

She's looking forward to an evening phone call with Donald Penobscott - something uplifting to fit this heartening weather. She bites her lip as she thinks of his low, rumbling voice coming over the static. How it gives her the shivers and giggles, makes it worth all the rolled eyes and teasing from the 4077 peanut gallery.

But for right now, she's content to stand in the doorway of Post-Op, turning her face to the sun and enjoying the warmth on her skin. She's lost enough in the moment that she hardly hears Hunnicutt come up alongside.

"Incredible day, isn't it?" he says quietly.  
  
"Mmm," she replies, soaking it in. "We should really be inside."  
  
"We really should," he says, not moving an inch.  
  
"The patients require constant monitoring," she adds, leaning against the doorframe and sighing.  
  
"Indeed. If they go without orders for five minutes, they'll forget they're in the army." She can hear the tease in his voice.  
  
"Captain, you should be grateful to this weather. It makes me better able to tolerate you."  
  
BJ is about to flip something back when a young Korean boy comes running up to Post-Op. He's maybe eight, barefoot, and one of his feet has a ripped blister. BJ winces at the blood - the kid must've been in agony for however long he was running. Margaret is already halfway inside, on her way for bandages and iodine. He squats down to the boy's level while the boy catches his breath.   
  
"Whoa there. Steady, little fella. That foot of yours looks sore - let's have a look, ok? Come see me a little bit." He has no idea of the boy has any understanding, but keeps the patter going, smooth and gentle, with plenty of smiles and gestures. The kid lets him pick him up, and he carries him to an OR table. Margaret's already there with the supplies. They work quietly - he gives the boy a finger to squeeze and makes distracting faces while she cleans the wound. They bandage him up, and the boy hops down, ready to head off - but BJ stops him.   
  
"Listen, you have to keep it clean," he explains, gesturing at the whiteness of the bandages, and how they've already started to turn gray on the bottom. He looks up at Margaret. "I don't suppose we've got a pair of kid's shoes in Supply, do we?"  
  
She shakes her head. "No, but I have an idea." She disappears. BJ picks the kid up again and heads into Post-Op. There's nothing too frightening to see today. The soldiers look up in surprise and ask who the new doctor is. BJ sits him with the card players, and does rounds while waiting for Margaret.  
  
When she comes back, she's got a hot water bottle, some tubing, a suture kit and a scalpel. "Doctor," she says with a rare grin. "I need an assist here."   
  
Together, they fashion a kind of sandal, with a rubber base and tubing for straps. BJ makes the stitches; Margaret's in charge of design. They slip it onto the boy's foot and he clomps around Post-Op, grinning. Cinderella he's not, but it'll do.

The boy heads out beaming with a pocket full of candy and quarters. Margaret and BJ steal another moment by the door to watch him go.  
  
"I wonder where his home is," she muses.  
  
"I wonder where his parents are." BJ's voice has an unexpected edge to it.  
  
She turns. "He may not have any, BJ." It's the first time she's used his name.  
  
"I know, I know," he says, sighing in a way that's both resigned and bitter. "And maybe he's one of too many kids to keep track of, let alone tend to when he gets hurt."  
  
"You - you must be missing your family," she says awkwardly.   
  
"It's the worst on days like this."  
  
"Like this?"  
  
"Beautiful days with not enough to do."  
  
"Isn't that why you and Pierce are always mucking around and causing mayhem?"  
  
The catch in his breath is so slight and the recovery so fast she might have imagined it. "He - he's been called up to Battalion Aid. He should be back tomorrow. You just never know, you know?"  
  
"You can't think like that, Captain. Of course he'll be back."  
  
"I know. He has to. He will."  
  
She gives him a sidelong glance and sees the flicker of pain in his face, the tension in his mouth. She wonders if he realizes his hands are white-knuckled fists.  
  
"Captain," she says, more gently. "BJ?"  
  
He flinches slightly, as if startled, and puts on his usual congenial face. "What? Sorry, Major."  
  
"It's Margaret right now," she says. "BJ, I worry, too. I worry, too."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"Of course I do. This place isn't the same when he's...away. He can be utterly maddening, and he's also -"  
  
" - irreplaceable?"  
  
"Sure. What I mean is - I know how a person can find themselves in...unlikely situations, making the...unlikeliest of friends in times like these. The things and people who help you live through it aren't always what you'd expect, are they?"  
  
BJ gives a tiny, suppressed snort. "No, I can't imagine you'd have ever ended up entangled with the likes of Frank Burns anywhere but here."  
  
She glares at him, but there's no fire in it. "Exactly. One seeks...comfort where one can."  
  
For a moment, BJ's heart stops. If she knows - if she suspects - if _anyone_  suspects - he can feel his chest tightening, the blush flooding his neck. "Major, I'm talking about Hawkeye. He's the best friend I've ever had. It's not quite the same as you and Frank."   
  
(Definitely not. But also not entirely not-not.)  
  
"Oh, don't be silly. You know what I mean. He's loud and uncouth and disrespectful and - and we need him."  
  
BJ's pulse starts to come down to normal. "Yes. Yes, we do."  
  
"But one thing IS obvious, Captain."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"He's more than a comrade to you. He's your family, now. Whatever you have at home, he'll be a part of it forever, if you let him."  
  
BJ nods. "You think?"  
  
"I've known him longer than you have. I know."  
  
Someone coughs from inside Post-op and they both automatically turn and scan the room. "Doc? I think my bandage is comin' off," says one of the patients.  
  
"Right!" BJ calls as he heads over to inspect. Margaret, he knows, will be waiting with the bandages when he calls.


End file.
